


what i got can't be bought so call it what you want

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, MAKING OUT IN THE RAIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:52:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I create my own luck</i>, he thinks. And then the sky opens up and it begins to rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what i got can't be bought so call it what you want

**Author's Note:**

> i have a condition. for laura.

_I create my own luck_ , he thinks. And then the sky opens up and it begins to rain.

 

 

He doesn't tell anyone he's going because someone -- Tony -- will stop him and someone -- fucking _Tony_ \-- is going to have something clever and witty to say because someone -- yeah okay Tony -- is actually too clever sometimes for Bruce to handle. He's used to silence, not so much to candor and wit and Tony is an expert in them both. Tony's words fall off his tongue like quicksilver and he expects everyone else to either keep up or fall behind. That Bruce has managed to match his pace for so long is a damn miracle. Like so many other things.

This is the first time he's caught a cab in ages. It makes him feel partially domestic, partially out of touch with the rest of the world -- he raises his arm and a car drives right by. The streets are already half-flooded and the rain is coming down with vengence which is _stupid_ because they already took care of all that. Bruce looks guiltily at a crumbled building to his left, a roped off apartment building to his right.

If anyone else knew his face, he's not too sure what would happen.

Bruce looks up at the sky, because when it rains, there tends to be a fairly good, karmic reason for it. It's just that, right now, he can't really think of one. He can't think of what he's done wrong this time -- his conscious is clearer than it has been in years. He feels... _light._ He _feels_ like _light_ , like it's pouring out of him. Lightening cracks. He thinks of gods. He thinks of monsoons. He thinks of droughts. He thinks of people who have saved him.

The rain stops.

"Please tell me you're only standing out here for the purposes of being dramatic." Tony Stark checks his watch. "I have other places to be."

 

 

He isn't expecting this. He never _was_ expecting any of this -- not when they first met in the sky and Tony's hand, shockingly weathered for a man with so much at his disposal, was in his and it was cold, it sent shivers down his spine, set off something in his chest and it took him a second to recover.

Bruce realizes there is an umbrella over his head. That Tony is suddenly soaking wet and it really doesn't matter at this point because they're probably both going to catch pneumonia and die, but hey, at least they shared this moment together. 

"Stop following me."

"Don't flatter yourself." Tony turns up the collar on his coat, rather useless at this point. "I was headed this way. Saw you standing here feeling sorry for yourself." 

Bruce never took him for a terrible liar. 

"What do you want, Tony?"

 _Loaded question, Banner_ , he thinks to himself. 

"Come back with me."

"I can't do that."

"Like hell." Tony's words are sharp and there's a pale flush to his cheeks. "You're gonna run off again? Hide on the other side of the world? You can't run from him. He's there with you--"

"Don't you lecture me on running. Don't you _dare_ \--"

"Let me _help you_."

Now this, this he wasn't expecting. 

Bruce takes a step back. Tony steps under the umbrella.

"I don't need--"

"Everyone needs help. Sometimes." Tony looks down at his feet. "Sometimes, you know."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Prove me wrong, then," Tony says, and oh god is he clever. Bruce's mind goes into overdrive, trying to hear the gears in his head. "I'll know in a day if you don't need me. Less than that." He is closer now, taking off his sunglasses and he looks less like Tony Stark now and more like...just Tony. Just this guy who is asking Bruce to stay with him, to let him help. "I just can't promise I won't need you."

Bruce's vision comes into sharp focus and Tony's mouth is quickly, quietly, almost... _politely_ on his own.

Yeah, he might need this.

 

 

Tony warns him that if he drips on the floors, JARVIS will give them a verbal flogging they won't forget and hands him a towel. 

"It's cold in here."

"Yeah well, you're covered in a good six years of desperately needed rain. Count yourself lucky you don't have the plague."

"You don't get the plague through rain. Or any--" Tony kisses him again and it's a lot different than the tentative one on the street. There's force here, and desperation. Bruce's hands are trembling and it might be from the cold, it might not. He grips Tony's sides, feels Tony's hand clutching a fistful of his shirt, holding him close. 

"I won't fly off you know," Bruce murmurs.

"Don't act like you weren't thinking about it." And that's when Tony strips them both, faster than Bruce can process it. He pulls him to the bedroom which is definitely, like, five rooms and three hallways over and Bruce is pretty sure he's never had to travel through so many doorways to get laid before. But then, it's been a while.

 

 

 _I create my own luck,_ he thinks. Tony falls asleep with his finger's tangled in Bruce's hair, face in a pillow, snoring quietly. 

Bruce thinks that this can only last so long, and when Tony wakes up, he's staring at the wall, not quite sure where he should go next. Where to go from _here_.

"If you need to leave, you know I'll understand." Bruce turns over, drags a blanket over his head. "Hey." Tony nudges him. "I'm serious."

"I know." Bruce pulls the blanket off his head. "I just don't know if I will."


End file.
